


out of line

by TolkienGirl



Series: Vintage Winchesters: Season 1 Tags [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e08 Bugs, Gen, I love S1 Sam's adolescent rage what can I say, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Sam Winchester-brand Daddy Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: The story of Sam’s life isn’t one of rebellion. But Dean wouldn’t understand that.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & John Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: Vintage Winchesters: Season 1 Tags [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777720
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	out of line

The story of Sam’s life isn’t one of rebellion. But Dean wouldn’t understand that.

Dean limits his interests to the quickly accessible, his dreams to the marching orders of a man who isn’t even here. Dean thinks of life in terms of survival.

In a way, he had to. It was that or get out.

Sam, who got out, can’t fall asleep. He pillows his head on his elbow. Better that than the scratchy motel sheet. This place has a bedbug aura. Palo-Alto-Sam had pushed _those_ memories down more than most other things. The lowest possible place reserved for the things that just— _scuttle_ in the night.

There’s no value to be found in dripping pipes, fly-graveyard windowsills. Stained carpets and stained bedspreads. Bathrooms with rust-running water and turmeric-colored mold in the grout.

Bugs.

Right. That’s why the _gross_ feels extra up-close and personal tonight.

Sam sighs, blinks his dry eyes. Motel drudgery is better than steam showers, if all that’s coming to you is a world of winged hurt. _Remind yourself that the world outside is dangerous._

_Remind yourself—relearn—_

Sam squeezes his eyes shut, now. Discounts the growing itch at the nape of his neck. It’s all in his head. It’s all already in his head. He doesn’t need to relearn damn near anything. Certainly not his childhood marching orders.

Neuroses aside, his mind is the best asset he has. What drives him isn’t rebellion. It wasn’t when he left, either. No—it was the desire to live, to survive more than hunting and his father’s grief.

Now he’s survived Jess.

(Crickets. His whole mind goes to crickets, at that.)

Life is a battlefield. (This isn’t defeat, it’s vengeance.) He wanted to be a lawyer, for God’s sake. Wanted—still wants. What does he want?

(Vengeance.)

Find Dad. Find the thing that killed Mom and Jess. These are simple answers, and Sam—Sam is ready for the simple, but he won’t call it the old life. The old life was about Dad, and a memory, and no one could choose to step in or out of it, until Sam did.

It’s important to draw that line. It’s _necessary_ to draw that line.

Dean would say, lines don’t matter unless they’re white with salt.

Dean would say, whatever-Sam-I-don’t-care-if-you-think-you’re-giving-in-or-not, all in one breath, so Sam couldn’t fight him.

Dean _did_ say that Dad wasn’t as hard on Sam as Sam remembers, so maybe Dean was playing checkers behind Sam’s back and jumped ahead.

And point taken, all right? Not about the past, but about the future.

It’s Sam’s fight now. Really and truly. Not one he’s been assigned. One that consumes him, flames starting up from the inside out.

(Vengance.)

He falls asleep and wakes up in the same defensive position. The itch is gone. The light through the windows is yellow, because the curtains are the color of old corn.

Dean is pulling on his socks.

Dean is saying, “I need new socks, dammit.”

Dean, for all his memories—


End file.
